


Distracted

by tired_snail



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Blindfolds, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Lemon, Light Angst, Speaking Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:19:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4393424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tired_snail/pseuds/tired_snail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader gets yelled at by Nat for being too distracted during training. And it just so happens that the reason of her being distracted then comes over to her flat to comfort her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distracted

**Author's Note:**

> For Tess, because in her own words, Bucky is the best.
> 
> это забавно = it's funny  
> дорогая = love/darling  
> я обещаю = i promise  
> Ты такая красивая = you're so beautiful

Training with Nat was hard - when training with the guys, they were easy on you because they weren't sure about your limits, too careful not to hurt you. Natasha, on the other hands, wasn't afraid to push your limits, cursing in Russian when you weren't trying hard enough. Her voice still rang in your head like a slap, the words she spoke today clear in your mind.

"I don't  _care_ what's on your mind, for fuck's sake! If this was real combat, you would already be dead with how distracted you are today! Go take a shower, we're done for today. There's no point in training if you can't focus on anything." You felt tears forming in your eyes when she said that and you quickly turned away from her, determined to not let her see you cry - especially because she was right. 

Unfortunately, the reason of you being  _distracted_ as she said, was just walking through the door, all tall and handsome as always, his metal arm shining in the summer sun coming through the windows, the tight black t-shirt showing the toned chest underneath. 

"Come on, Natasha, don't be so hard on her," Bucky said, his voice low and sympathetic, calming you down a little bit. You smiled weakly at him in silent thanks. "She's just starting out."

"I know, but that doesn't mean she can't at least try. She's been 'starting out' for the last month, you know."

Before you could walk past him, Bucky's left hand caught your upper arm, the metal cold against your skin, and he leaned down to you. "Don't worry about what Nat says to you too much, (Y/n), she's this hard on everyone," he smiled softly, "now go. I'll talk to her."

"You don't have to, I..."

"I know," he said as he let go of your arm, signaling that the conversation was over. 

* * *

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down as the cold water from the shower ran across your skin. Trying not to think about how very hot and fuckable Bucky looked with that stubble on his face, with his chest visibly showing in the tight t-shirt; trying not to remember the dreams you had about him tonight - dreams from which you woke up covered in sweat and breathing heavily.

You emerged from the shower, drying your (h/c) hair just so it wasn't dripping everywhere, wrapped yourself in a towel and walked out to the living room of your flat in Stark tower with the intention to cross it to your bedroom and get some clothes on.

"(Y/n)," a soft, husky voice startled you so much you jumped a bit.

"Jesus Christ!" you yelped, the towel wrapped around your body threatening to unwrap and fall on the floor. You subconsciously crossed your arms over your chest to make sure that doesn't happen and turned to face the man who surprised you so much, a smirk playing on his face, his brown eyes dark and playful.

"Nope, sorry. Just me," Bucky chuckled, his eyes wandering down your body, stopping at where long legs emerged from the towel. 

You rolled your eyes. "What do you want, James?" you asked lifting your eyebrows slightly. 

"You left your bottle in the training room. And I wanted to talk," he answered, his right hand moving a strand of hair from his face. 

"Okay, uhm, can it wait until I put some clothes on?" you smiled shyly at him.

"Sure," Bucky said as he sat on the sofa

You quickly ran to your bedroom to get dressed, closing the door behind you. You rummaged through your dresser until you found a grey v-neck t-shirt and black jeans. You put simple black panties on, but couldn't be bothered to wear a bra over the slightly damp skin, so you just quickly put on the jeans and t-shirt and went back to the living room. 

It was connected to a small kitchen. You walked over to the counter to get a glass of water, looking at Bucky whose eyes were following your every step. "So, uhm," you started, "do you want any tea or coffee or something?"

"No, thanks," he smiled, gesturing for you to sit on the sofa with him when you got your water, slicing up some lemon in it. You sat as far from him as you possibly could on the tiny sofa, looking at him, not knowing what to expect. 

"What did you want to talk about, then?" you asked. 

He smiled softly, his eyes scanning your face. "Yeah, that, well... as you probably guessed, I overheard Nat screaming at you," he said, his voice a mixture of sympathetic and apologetic. 

You chuckled a bit. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole tower overheard that... not that I didn't deserve it, too," you shrugged, looking down and quickly drinking your water before Bucky could notice that the glass started shaking a little in your hands. "I'm completely useless," you said quietly.

"(Y/n)," Bucky stopped you, his voice quiet, "You're not useless. I haven't seen anyone as good with a bow in their hands as you and Hawkeye are. You can't put yourself down like this, okay?"

"But-"

"No. There's no 'but'. So you're not as fast and flexible as Nat is. So what? To be fair, nobody in this tower is."

"Yeah, but I couldn't even handle simple one-on-one combat today," you answered quietly, not even bothering to try to hide the fact that your hands were shaking like crazy. "I don't want to be a sniper for the rest of my life."

"(Y/n), look at me," Bucky's voice was soft, but demanding - an order, and you didn't dare to disobey him. "You'll get the hang of it eventually. You're still learning, and from what I hear from everyone except Nat, you're getting better."

"They're being easy on me. Too careful. Nat's not like that," you said, subconsciously rubbing your neck on a place that hurt particularly badly from today's training. "She knows I can do better. Be faster. Stronger." Suddenly, realisation hit you like a wave. "Why aren't _you_ training me, Bucky?" he winced - you didn't call him Bucky that often, usually just going for his first name, feeling like you didn't know him well enough to use a nickname. 

His fists clenched at that question. "I didn't think you'd want that," he stated simply.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm not an Avenger," he said, looking you straight in the eyes. "Not even an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. for that matter."

"You're staying here and you sure as hell can fight," you pointed out. "I don't care whether you're an Avenger or not. Although, while we're at it - why  _aren't_ you an Avenger?"

Bucky chuckled.

"What?"

"You're just so straightforward.  _это забавно_."

You raised your eyebrows at the random switch to Russian. "You didn't answer my question, Barnes," you leaned forward, poking him in the non-metal arm jokingly.

He shrugged. "I guess most of them are still a bit worried that I could relapse and kill them all," he said, no sign of emotion in his voice. For some reason, it made you feel bad for asking. 

"Sorry," you whispered quietly, setting the now empty glass on the table.

He looked at you with eyebrows raised in question. "What for?"

"Asking." You looked down at your hands resting on your lap. 

Suddenly he moved closer to you, his left hand cupping your cheek, cold against your flushed skin, making you turn your head so you were looking up at him. Your breathing got faster with him closer to you, your eyes widening. "Don't be sorry, (Y/n)," he said, his hand moving from your face to where your neck met your shoulder, causing you to shiver a bit. "What?" he asked quietly, looking worried. 

You bit your lip, feeling your cheeks getting warmer. "Sensitive spot," you explained, making Bucky chuckle quietly. You raised your eyebrows at that. "What's so funny about me being ticklish?" you asked.

"Nothing," Bucky answered, taking his hand off you. "How did you even get out of bed today, though? You're terribly tense."

You didn't care to admit that you were this tense because of him being so close to you, the smell of his cologne surrounding you with every breath you took. "Pure willpower," you chuckled.

"Yeah, sure. Turn around, will you, _дорогая_?" he smiled at you gently, the soft accent of the Russian word at the end of a sentence sending shivers down your spine. You decided not to question his demand and turned around on the couch, throwing your legs over the armrest and hugging your knees with your arms so you wouldn't just fall back into him. 

You heard Bucky's sharp intake of breath before he gently placed his hands on the back of your shoulders, slowly and steadily massaging you, his hands slowly moving to your lower back when the tense knots of muscles on your shoulders began to relax. You couldn't stop a quiet whimper when he hit an especially painful spot, because _damn, it felt so good_. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and quiet, his hands slowing down a little bit.

"Yeah," you nodded, "just don't stop."

He chuckled a bit again, and his hands returned to the previous steady rhytm for a moment until he suddenly stopped. You wanted to turn around and ask why, but before you could do that, both his arms were locked around your upper body, pulling you towards him and causing you to yelp in surprise when your back hit his chest. You felt his breath on your earlobe before his voice in your ear asked a question you definitely weren't prepared to hear, husky and quiet. 

"Are you afraid of me, (Y/n)?"

You tried to get your breathing under control again, feeling your chest rise and fall before deciding that a completely honest answer will probably be the best one. Bucky's grip on your body wasn't strong, more like a hug than anything threatening, and you pulled away before turning around to look him in the eyes and answer. "I am sometimes," you admitted.

Bucky's head fell a bit to the side, his gaze fixed on you, curious. "Sometimes?" he asked.

You bit your lip again, this time hard enough to taste blood on your tongue. "At the beginning, when we didn't know each other and you would just stare at me without saying a word for really long periods of time," you said, watching his face when he slowly nodded. "And..." 

Bucky looked at you with a worried look. "And?"

You hid your face in your hands, feeling embarassed. Why couldn't you just stop yourself before starting to say it? Why were you so stupid? "I've had dreams about you," you admitted quietly, lifting your gaze from beneath your fingers to watch his reaction. He ran his hand through his hair, looking at you. 

"What kind of dreams?" he asked, his eyes darkening a little bit. 

"Nightmares at first," you said, praying that it would be enough for him.

"And now?" Shit. Of course it wasn't enough.

"Fuck," you murmured, "why did I even bring this up?"

"Because I asked," Bucky said, looking at you, waiting for an answer to his previous question, and you felt heat rising up to your face and neck again. 

"Promise not to laugh at me. Or despise me."

Bucky lifted his eyebrows with a slightly amused glance. "It can't be that bad, love. So yes.  _я обещаю_." _  
_

You picked up all the courage you had, and you leaned in to kiss him instead of an answer, Bucky's left hand pulling you closer to him as the right one tangled in your (h/c) hair. When you pulled away out of breath, you saw him grinning at you from behind his dark hair. 

"That kind of dreams, huh?" Bucky teased playfully and you fought the urge to poke him in the ribcage when you shyly nodded, looking back at him. 

"You're not mad?" you asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"No."

And in that moment, he was holding you close to him again, your chests flush together, his lips pressed against yours in a kiss much more heated than the previous one, his left arm moving down your back, slipping under your shirt, the touch of cold metal on your spine eliciting a quiet yelp from you giving his tongue acces inside your mouth. 

Sadly, both of you still needed to breathe and that kiss had to end as well as the previous one. Suddenly Bucky got up from the couch, quickly lifting you up as well, and he carried you to the bedroom, gently setting you on the giant bed. You watched, mersmerized, as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, giving you a full view of the toned muscles on his chest. 

"Raise your hands," he said, his voice low but authoritative, and you did, helping him get your t-shirt off as well. "No bra, huh?" he noted quietly and you playfully hit him in the right shoulder. 

"Ever tried putting a bra on wet skin? Not fun," you shrugged. He hummed quietly, moving towards you on the bed so you'd move backwards a little bit, getting you to lie down on the silky sheets, straddling your hips and moving down to place kisses along your neck and collarbone as his hands explored the newly exposed areas of your body. He kissed a trail to your left breast, circling the nipple with his lips, the thumb of his left hand playing with the other one, earning low moans from you. 

He moved away after a while, kissing his way to the hem of your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as he pulled them off your legs painfully slowly along with your panties, placing kisses on every bit of skin he exposed during the process. He tossed your jeans on the floor somewhere and got off the bed for a minute. You watched him strip off his jeans, not really surprised at the fact that he wasn't wearing any underwear, taking in every single bit of his body. He looked around the room for a minute before he found what he was looking for - a silky scarf that was lying on a table, a remnant from last night when all of you went out to get some drinks and dance. He quickly walked over to the table, taking the scarf in his hands.

"Buck?" you asked quietly, unsure, "What do you need _that_ for?"

"I'm not going to tie you up, if that's what you're afraid of," he said, and although you felt a strange wave of arousal over the thoughts of being at his mercy, vulnerable like that, you also felt relief that that wasn't what that was about. You nodded as a sign for him to continue. "I was thinking, however," he said, "about if you'd be up for it if I blindfolded you," he said, a silent question in his statement. 

You nodded, getting up to briefly kiss him again, until you pulled away slightly so he could cover your eyes with the scarf. 

"Can I try something?" you asked, an idea forming in your mind. 

"Sure,  _дорогая_. Anything you want," he answered without even hesitating for a second.  _  
_

You lifted your hands in the dark surrounding you with the scarf covering your eyes, moving then around for a bit until you found his chest, exploring every single inch of it, moving upwards to his shoulders, each hand then gently sliding down both his muscular arms, taking in the toned muscles and comforting warmth of his right arm, the cold but surprisingly smooth metal of the bionic arm that freaked most people out when they first saw it; taking in as much of him as you possibly could, your hands sliding down from his to find his strong thigs, running up and down the smooth skin, stopping at each scar he had from combat, until your fingers finally found his erection, causing a gasp to emerge from his mouth when they oh-so-softly moved along his whole length. You could only imagine what he looked like when you had him like this - flustered and slightly sweaty, with his eyes half closed, his breathing ragged. 

Suddenly you felt his arms on your shoulders, pushing so you would lie down again. You didn't fight him; you wondered what he had in store for you. You felt him place butterfly kisses along your jaw before he connected your lips again, felt his right arm that he used to support himself and not fall on top of you, but mostly felt the metal arm, the cold metal finally getting a little warmer as it touched your skin, moving from your neck through the gap between your breasts on your belly and finally down between your legs, his thumb finding your clit almost immediately, his middle finger sliding inside your wetness, eliciting moans from you that were swallowed by Bucky's lips just nanoseconds after they left yours. And then suddenly Bucky's lips weren't there to catch your moans when he added a second finger, and you would complain, but then his lips were gently sucking on your clit and  _holy fuck he definitely knew how to drive you crazy_. 

Your hips involuntarily bucked up, but his right arm moved to hold them in place on the bed, his tongue sliding inside you painfully slowly a few times, and then suddenly he pulled away, leaving you a hot mess on the bedsheets, desperate for more, but he was back in a second, kissing you passionately and you could taste yourself on his lips and it was oh, so hot.

"James, please..." you managed to get out between kisses, and thank God he understood what you meant, positioning himself on top of you and swiftly pulling in, filling you up as much as physically possible, stopping for a moment for you to get used to him, supporting himself on one hand and using the other to pull the blindfold off your head, and holy fuck did the sight of the older man make you want him even more. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, his lips opened a little bit, eyes dark with lust and you wanted to see him like that for the rest of your life. 

He started thrusting into you, occasionally connecting your lips to kiss again, and you were so close you were afraid you were going to explode from all the sensations, and suddenly you were falling, your walls clenching around his cock sending him over the edge just seconds after you, riding out his orgasm before pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to you, throwing his left arm over your chest in a gentle gesture, both of you a hot panting sweaty mess.

" _Ты такая красивая_ ," he whispered, locking his gaze with yours, and your poor knowledge of Russian sure was enough to let you understand that. 

"You're quite handsome yourself," you smiled and there he was smiling back, lazily leaning up to kiss you on the cheek, and when he pulled away you looked at him and felt so happy inside, anything Nat said to you that morning long forgotten. "Anywaaay," you yawned, "will you train me or not?"

That question caused him to laugh quietly, and he grinned at you, his hand putting a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, love, but let's take a shower first."

Sharing your tiny shower with the hot-as-hell assassin? Well, you were definitely up for that. 


End file.
